Shortly afterward the butler knocked at the study door and opened it.
“Mr. Chester J. Gillespie to see you, sir,” he announced.
Before Nick could reply, or the butler could get out of the way, for that matter, the young man named pushed into the room, his face pale with agitation.
“You must help me, Mr. Carter!” he cried excitedly. “I——”
He paused as Nick motioned the butler to withdraw and close the door. When the servant had complied, Nick said quietly:
“Sit down, Mr. Gillespie. I’m very sorry to learn that some one has attempted to blackmail you, but there’s no necessity for such great haste.”
His caller had started to take a chair, but paused with his hand on the back of it, and stared at Nick in the greatest amazement. Presently, a spot of angry red appeared in each pale cheek, and his rather weak jaw thrust out aggressively.
“By Heaven!” he breathed. “I believe you are in league with the fellow. I’ll swear I do! How otherwise could you know that——”
“That will be about enough of that, Gillespie!” the detective said sternly. He had heard too many such accusations in the last few hours. “If you have come to me for help, as your rather abrupt opening words would seem to indicate, let me warn you that you are not furthering your case by insulting me.”
“I—I beg your pardon, Mr. Carter,” the bewildered young man stammered. “I didn’t mean it, of course, but you are positively uncanny, and I could not understand how——”